Every Saturday, we’ll be posting a new illustration by David Lester. The Mecca Normal guitarist is visually documenting people, places and events from his band’s 27-year run, with text by vocalist Jean Smith.
There was only one other person at the gym on Sunday. Like, for the entire time. A tall, dark and handsome guy I wasn’t sure I’d seen before. I didn’t have my glasses on. He spoke to me first, and we exchanged comments about the weather and the empty gym. He asked me how my weekend was going, and I said I’d had a nice time wandering on The Drive the day before.
He said, “It sure has changed over the years.”
“Yes, it has,” I said, thinking he looks about 30, but I guess he could be 35. I told him I’d lived around here for more than 20 years, and he said he grew up in North Van.
“Me too,” I said.
“What school did you go to?” he asked.
“Delbrook, which burned down in 1977,” I said. “The year I graduated.”
He said he remembered Delbrook. I didn’t think this was possible, but whatever. I think he did some math right at that point because he didn’t talk to me again until he was leaving. He seemed sort of flustered as he walked by me on his way to the door. He waved and said everything twice.
“Have a good weekend, take care, I’ll see you another time, have a great day, see you later, take it easy.”
“Yup, you too,” I said, from the stationary bike. On the eve of turning 52, I’ll take that as a compliment. Or maybe he didn’t have his glasses on either.
